


Oh, Miss Detective.

by scuseme



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Alternate Universe - 1920s, Blood and Gore, F/M, Period-Typical Racism, obsessed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27700718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scuseme/pseuds/scuseme
Summary: The setting is in New Orleans, 1923.After countless of times, it seems fruitless to catch the New Orleans Killer. They're reign of terror will soon come to a end.(Huumm its a bad summary will change ut soon. Also this is from the trailer y'all liked so much please enjoy.)
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) & Reader, Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 50





	Oh, Miss Detective.

**Author's Note:**

> TW)
> 
> Dissection of dead body.
> 
> (Also i add some more things because i dont think i can write the best so if you already read the first chapter don't be discouraged with my lack of writing)

It was nearing winter, trees losing their orange leaves, and the change of the climate. 

Murder victims and Assault victims have been popping up quite frequently this year and seems to not be slowing down, the only way to solve this problem was to bring justice.

A woman comes to the view, hands clasped together as well as a kodak box camera wraps around her neck. Walking down the wet sidewalk, she looks around spotting for the beginning of her job. 

Her coat flows with the winter air, nice leather flats lightly click with the cement, and a black woven hat.

A dead-panned look was on her smooth face as she spotted the cop cars. The lights flashing with caution and legal force. 

An alleyway killer? In such a populated city?

Rubbing her gloved hands together she lets out a disgruntled scoff, caution tape surrounds the dark alleyway as well as police men. Taking out her little yellow notebook and cheap pencil, she steps over the tape and makes her way to the crime scene. 

A lifeless hand was sticking out from under the blanket stained with their blood. The male cops gathered around the victim as they made idle conversation. 

"I just saw her after she left the police station yesterday…"

"Damn..."

"She was a looker too." 

Rolling her eyes at the last comment she made herself present with a cough from her throat. The officers hearing this turn their attention to the woman.

"Ey' lady this ain't a place for you- it's confidential." The eldest one says. 

"Sir, I'm the new Detective." She replies calmly with her mittened hand raised for a greeting.

"New detective and a female one at that? Pah! That's one you never get." He laughs as the other male officer's join in. 

Grunting in annoyance she puts her hand back into her coat and whips out her badge. The action caused the officers to stop laughing.

"I'm the new detective." She says her name slowly, placing the badge back into her coat and spins around to face the deceased person. Ignoring the three officers stampering she then gives questions.

"Who's she?" Taking her pencil she taps the notepad waiting for the eldest officer's answer.

He lets out a grumble as he sighed. "Was, you mean. This lady was Judy McGuire- she worked at a school for the unfortunate."

Writing the information that deemed necessary. The address and names of people she'd known and was related to now written onto the paper. Placing it back into her coat and the pencil behind her ear she kneels down to the body.

Then she lifts up the blanket getting a good view of the victim's injuries, the smell of copper is the first sent to hit the Detective's nose. 

Judy was a woman of fortune despite her working conditions. A necklace laid upon her collarbone, lifting a brow this raises a question.

Why would someone attack a woman of wealth and not take any valuables?

Judy's hand looked a bit disfigured, maybe was born with it or trauma that happened early in her life. But upon closer inspection the Detective found a bruise mark on Judy's wrist. A hand mark of a man presumably, no woman would have made a bruise mark this violent. 

Domestic abuse?

Taking a break to write this down, the Detective takes a look at the clothes Mrs. McGurie was wearing. A baby blue evening gown, and jewelry. Like she was trying to impress someone. Possibly on her way to retire home before the attack.

Snapping a photo of the body Detective takes the undeveloped photo and places it into her handbag, maybe another picture?

The Detective obviously shouldn't undress her in an alleyway would be anything but respectful, to Mrs. McGurie.

But Detective HAD to see more to this, it's her job to keep people safe from anyone that steps out of line. Turning to the other reinforcements, they look about and warn citizens to kindly back off. 

Having to do this under some sort of timer the Detective had to work quickly. Her fingers took hold of the dress and lifted it to spot a wide tear under Judy's left breast, it looked like it was the cause of her death. A sharp object caused it, possibly going into her lung.

A key made itself known by clattering to the ground. A brow lifts from Defective as she examines it, revealing it had an address.

Taking another picture as the camera flashes and puts the other photo among her hand bag. Placing Judy's dress back in place respectively, and placing hands together in some sort of prey for god the female investor pulls themselves back up to stand. 

Again taking a few minutes writing in details of the fate of Mrs. McGurie, as well as questions that needed to be solved.

Suddenly people crowd around the dank alleyway, wanting to know what happened.  
After wishing Judy a safe passing, The Detective decided to take this information as well as have a police officer call for a herse to pick up the body.

Making her way to an officer she dips her hat down to hide her face from the curious crowd. 

Detective taps lightly onto the man's shoulder to grab his attention. "I have finished with my investigation, could you be a dear and call funeral services for Judy?" The officer looks to the side nodding as he makes his way to a pay phone. Easy done.

Walking on the opposite side from the crowd, Detective steps over the caution tape and down the sidewalk.

Now it's time to make haste to Judy's home, of course Judy's home is quite a bit away so calling a taxi is in order. Waiting to see the gross yellow car to pop up, Detective takes out her note book to review her notes.

\-----------  
5,16,1923  
The body of Judy McGurie.

Upon taking a look at Ms. Or Mrs.McGurie's deceased body I've made out a few cases of a struggle. 

Judy's head had a bruise on the back of her head, her wrist and hand miss shapened by the cause of her murderer? Unlikely.

Her jewelry and purse had been untouched, was this a personal kill? I'd like to take a closer look.

I shouldn't, but I lifted Judy's dress to find a jagged gash under her breast which could have been the cause of her death. A sharp object was obviously used. 

After looking at Judy's body I made it clear to myself as well as her soul to give her the closure to find her murderer. I'm going to her home to investigate some more.

\-------

After a few minutes of patiently waiting she spots the yellow taxi making it way down the road. Detective slides her notes into the pocket of her coat and takes her hand waving it for the car.

It slows down to a stop; getting in, Detective instructs the driver to Judy's address. Nodding the driver starts going in said instructions.

Detective looks out of the window, a storm hangs over most of New Orleans. Calm before the storm, Detective sarcastically thinks. Her hand grips her cotton knee length skirt. 

Her eyes squint as Detective tightens her fingers, she takes this seriously, murder cases, missing cases, ect… It's just important for her to find these deranged people. 

Devoting her entire childhood of studying and working hard, going to college with only a few spare change in her pockets. Detective can't let this slide.

A shock comes from the Detective as she just noticed the Taxi driver was speaking to her.

"I'm sorry, what was that hun?" Tilting her head she spots the drivers face in the rear-view mirror. 

Chucking he keeps his eyes on the road.

"I was jus' askin' if ya the new gumshoe. Couldn't help but notice ya cool hat." 

"Ah.. Yes I suppose I am." Tilting her head just a bit.

Lifting an eyebrow he looks back to her snorting. "An' a woman gumshoe at that. The world is changin fast." 

Going back to look at the window, Detective thinks back to the taxi driver's words. The world is changing, for the better. It would be great if women and people of colour would be treated with respect a lot faster than it's going. 

The light flashes in the clouds caused Detective to flinch. The dark clouds seem closer, and darker. 

Eyes rolling at the disappointment of not bringing an umbrella. Little specks of raindrops trail down the window, leaving little 'clacks' and 'clicks' in the quiet car.

Taking her eyes off the window she delved her gloved hand into the depths of her satchel until she feels the curvature of her make-up bag. 

Taking it out, Detective grasps the foundation applicant tightly in her hand, the mirror reflecting her elegance. 

Tapping the powdery substance, Miss Detective lightly applies it to her face. After finishing applying it she looks at herself. 

Now grabbing a roll-up lipstick, Detective starts to roll it up showing its orange hue. Placing it on her lips she gently applies it.  
Suddenly the Detective lurches forward, her head bobbing from the sudden stop of the vehicle.

The taxi driver turns his head, his hand extending forward with twitchy fingers.

"S' yer stop ma'am." 

Detective looks at the driver with wide eyes, a hand digging into the pocket of her coat, pulling out a small fashionable coin purse. 

Taking about two quarters, placing them nicely into his calloused palms. Getting out of the car the Detective turns to the man.

"Keep the change, Love." With that she slams the door before he can say anything more. Turning around as the car's wheels squeal off into the distance. 

She didn't need a mirror to know her lipstick smudged from the rude driver. Taking out a napkin she swipes it across the waxy substance. Hoping she got all of it. Looking up, Detective held her breath at the sight of the house. 

It was simply… Big, it reeked of wealth. Rose bushes were littered along the sides of the house, a weeping willow next to the mailbox. 

The mailbox had a cute message on the side, 'Loyalty'. It also had the address that was present on the key. 

Walking on the fairy stones and up to the steps of the house, the door was tall with engravings of fortune.

The Detective's gloved hand turns into a fist, tapping the door lightly with her knuckles. No answer so far, knocking again back to hear yet again no answer.

Attempts coming fruitless, Detective reaches in her pocket feeling around for the key. Pulling it out, her hand tightens around it knowingly. 

Putting it into the keyhole, she twists it till she hears the 'click'. 

"Gotcha." She says victorious, opening the door she noticed how her shoes seem to dip into the carpet. The living room furniture didn't look cheap at all, a gorgeous love seat sat right next to a brick fireplace.

Closing the door behind her and locking it, Detective closed her eyes like a switch. Find details leading to Mrs. McGurie's final moments of life. 

Yes, Detective really wanted to look at the house, but she had a job to do. 

Walking away from the living room to what seems like the well remodeled kitchen, black and white checkered tiles polished. The newest fridge was installed. 

Nothing stood out of the ordinary, just the note that sat on the little island in the middle of the kitchen. Walking over to it Detective crain's her head to read the note. 

The cursive writing said. 'My love, I never intended it to be this way… He was just a friend, you know? The one sending gifts and gorgeous bouquets. It's nothing to fear honey.'

\- sincerely your wife, Jane.

Obviously this was a cheating situation, but she can't say for sure. Setting the note back down, Detective makes haste out of the kitchen and up a set of mahogany stairs. 

The stairs were completely spotless and the Detective was afraid she'd slip and fall. Wrapping a hand on the rail for safety measurement, Detective continues her way up the stairs to the second floor. 

Black and white pictures are strewn across the flower printed wallpaper. The couple of Mr. And Mrs. McGuire's wedding photos. The wedding looked elegant from what the Detective could tell. 

They looked very happy, back then that is. The hall had four doors, one was opened wide and from what she can see from the inside it was the master bedroom. 

Walking into the bedroom she can see the queen size bed, it's sheets are wrinkled and unmade. The bedroom looked dirty, like someone was in despair.

Detective grabs her camera, capturing the bedroom's state. Going to the right nightstand, Detective opened it, finding a music box. 

It was made of porcelain, it looked custom made. Feeling the art done on the music box made this feel more depressing.

Opening it, the music box plays a little tune, a man holding a woman spinning. Other than that it was covered in tiny little letters. Some shapes of rectangles but most of them had a heart shape. 

It was a love affair, cheating is probably part of Judy's end. The husband is the first suspect that came to her mind. Playing a tiny scene in her head, Detective imagines the scenario.

The husband must have been very upset, luring Judy into the alleyway and he grabs the murder weapon killing her with it. Most likely hid the evidence that it was him.

Or…

It was admire, in Judy's note she mentioned she had done something with 'someone'- a 'he' and was nothing more to her husband. No name, only a gender indication, nothing about the person. 

Detective let out a frustrated sigh, nothing in this house gave any sudden clues. Only little love notes, and affairs written all over this house. 

Picking up a rectangular piece of paper from the music box, she reads what was on it.

'My dear girl, your beauty is better than any dame I've ever seen~" The writing was neat and clean, a man of charm and knowledge.

'I must say I'm entranced by your whole-self. Last night was the time I felt alive… In a long time actually. Anywho, may I take you out again?'

Evermore, .

The name was unreadable, it scratched with a black pen in effort to hide the name, but underneath the black pen Detective can notice a tiny bit of red ink. The first letter is a bit hard to decipher but it has to be an A. 

So whoever this- Mister, A, person is he said he was 'entranced' by Mrs. Judy. Sliding the note into her pocket, Detective looked through more of the tiny letters. Erotic talk here and there, until coming across a letter. It was newly made, as from the date. It was the day before Judy's unfortunate death.

'My Dear Judy,

I want to love you and touch you, I've been so unsure about how love works. I'm ready to complete the puzzle between a man and a woman… I know you've been asking for me, and I'm ready. I'll see you tonight.'

A pushy sex bribed love, but the other way around. Men usually would have sex with every dame in the whole area, and think only of their big ego. 

Judy on the other hand is quite more devious and unlady like than Detective had thought. Now this Mister A person is the main suspect, he saw Judy last alive and all odds are pointing towards him. 

Taking a few more sappy letters, Detective had made her way out, closing the door and locking it behind her. Crossing the garden stones till her leather shoes, click onto the sidewalk. A poker face rested lightly on her face.

It's time to find the missing puzzle pieces.

::::::::

It's been thirteen hours since the first case, sleepless throughout half of the night reading the little notes, as well as the newest scoop on the news paper, and taking a lot of notes.

The side letters were little to no help at all, just cute chattering- annoying chattering. This Mister A-person was perceived as loving and shy, but somehow this felt unsettling. In one of his notes he'd shown an alarming admiration for hunting deer. Precisely doe, he loves hunting doe. 

It may be near coincidence, but with these deaths being mostly women it would be hard to bat the other way. Detective scrunches her nose at a smell, making a hard mental note. Who exactly is.. Mister A? 

The bulb of light flickers as Detective looks through the flip notes. It's more black pen than the yellow lined paper, questions with no answers mostly on the page. Even a diagram on Mister A's notes including his fascination with hunting doe. 

'As through my research I've found absolutely straws. Nothing to be connected to this A guy. His name crossed out on every single damn letter, only with one revealing letter.. A. Judy must've been very cautious, enough to scribble out her affairs name. 

Obviously hiding it from her husband but what else..?'

Looking up from her notes, she takes in the scene around her. The hospital for the dead, in other words for the morgue. The smell of chemicals and copper are wafted through the room. Two tables sat in the middle of the room, a corpse of Judy and another unidentifiable woman known as Jane Doe. 

Jane Doe had been murdered a week before Judy McGurie, but had the same connections. The same slashes in the same spots, purple and green angry bruises spread from the arms to the base of the neck. 

But Jane has a decapitated leg. That's what differs from the both of the girls.

Jane Doe's body has sadly already begun the stages of decomposing before police even found her. Her body dumped near a creek, like trash. The weird thing is that nobody even claimed her missing, a woman found in the creek, no name, no age other than speculation, and no family. 

It was really sad actually.

Soon they'll be freshened up and ready to be shipped off into the afterlife for good. Detective looms over Judy's body, Judy's face is calm and collected, her hair had been put up in a braid. Her ears had hoop diamond earings… wait. What is that? Behind her right ear. 

Bending her legs lighty, Detective moves back some of Judy's brunette baby hairs to get a better look. It was a strange symbol, a hexagon with a upside down star. Etched into her skin as a child to a colouring book, it was unsettling, unnerving, uncanny. Flipping to a new page from her note book, Detective doodles down the graffiti onto the yellow lined page. Sweat dripping down her face despite the awfully cold freezer she was in. 

It suddenly felt hot.

Slipping the pen into her black slacks, Detective wipes the cold sweat from her forehead looking back at Judy and Jane to find their corpses' eyes looking straight at Detective. Judy and Jane Doe's goldfish eyes, cloudy and milky evermore looking at the distraught investigator. Detective's eyes widen, mouth open agape, her mind racing. 

"Wh..what?" What's going on? Why are they looking at Detective like that? The air feels so hazy all the sudden.

Judy's pale grey hand moves lifelessly, towards the shocked woman. The sound of Judy collapsing onto the cement ground, cracking of her bones being displaced. The cloth flailed onto the ground showing her undead body, her stomach cut opened showing the removal of her organs. Her bones grit against the cement, her nails grasping the floor in attempts to going forwards Detective.

Stepping back, her mouth still agaped and her eyes pupils moving with such intensity. The body of Judy, still dragging with no signs of stopping. The air is turning against Detective, as she feels her breath cut short. Turning her head Detective hits into a wall with a thud, she can hear the shuffling of the undead make its way to her. 

"H..how is this happening?" Detective asked, voice so small. Looking back at Judy she sees the devil just a dial away. Sliding down onto the ground, Detective shook with fear. 

As she feels the presences of Judy's cold hand grasp onto the hair of (our) Detective. 

Detective's eyes shot open, to find herself sitting in the morgue. Her butt aching from the metal chair she'd been napping on. Sweat covered her body, the sound of her heart pounding from her chest as well as the sound of lights buzz above her. 

Standing up abruptly, Detective looked around, to find Judy McGurie and Jane Doe on the metal tables unmoving. Dead. Going over to the dead lady's, Detective glared at them. What was that dream? But it felt fucking real. Was it even a dream? 

Looking down at the ground, Detective found her note book flipped to the page with the symbol. But. How? Looking back up Detective squints at the two dead bodies with uncertainty. Hand hesitantly moving to the spot that the strange symbol caressed behind Judy's ear. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing indicating that there was a engraving. This is becoming infuriating to Detective, she swore that there was an undead Judy and Jane right in front of her! 

Maybe Detective is feeling delusional after staying up for most of the night. It could be it, but still these are very scary hallucinations just for staying up all day and night without sleep. Alas it was time to leave this hellish place, no disrespect to the dead. Detective had everything she could milk from these victims of The Killer, it was time to find some bigger scores. 

Gathering her things Detective grasped the door handle, ready to leave.


End file.
